I look awesome. I've got on my swim shorts, my blue floral Hawaiian shirt and my base tan. Oh and my brand new sun glasses. Beckett, on the other hand, still has on her black pants and suit jacket from New York. We're sitting on lounge chairs and she couldn't look less…loungy. I pull out the brochure from the cruise director and start skimming the list of events.
"Okay, we've got three ports of call and two fun days at sea to fill." I say. "St. Thomas is first—scuba or snorkel? I vote scuba!"
Beckett doesn't even look up from file from the office "I don't like swimming."
"You don't like to swim? What are you gonna do at the pool all week?"
She shakes her head, "I'm not going to the pool."
I shrug my shoulders, "You could drink I guess but I should warn you the bar is a swim-up bar."
Finally she looks up from her work, "I'm not going to the pool. I'm not drinking. We're not here to have fun."
"Come on. We're on our honeymoon!"
"Again, it's not a real honeymoon." she says.
You'd think she'd be more excited about her first honeymoon. Including my real ones this would make our trip my third honeymoon. So if anyone should be bored. It should be me.
"Then why'd we get the honeymoon suite? Private dock and fluffy slippers included." I say.
"Because you told the cruise director we were newlyweds."
I nudge her with my elbow, "Admit it, you like the fluffy slippers." She doesn't respond, "Just a little bit?" I pry.
"They are soft." she says.
"Besides, we had to switch rooms. They wanted us to stay in that tiny room with no windows. I couldn't even tell what time of day it was." I say.
"Check your watch."
"Didn't wear a watch." I show off my bare wrist, "I would have had to check my phone which by the way is roaming."
"We'll get you a watch."
"And the old room had two separate beds." I say. "It would have blown our cover."
"We still have two separate beds."
"That are currently pushed together to form a king and have a towel shaped like an elephant on top. We didn't have that in third class either."
"What? Towel origami?"
"Cool right?"
"Let's get to work." she says.
"What's the rush? We've still got the casino to check out. We haven't even hit the buffet."
She drops her file onto her lap, "The man responsible for smuggling drugs into the country via every port of call this ship makes is on board. Possibly responsible for three murders in New York. Most likely armed. And all you can think about is the buffet?"
I hold up the brochure, "And the casino. And the magic show. Please come with me to the magic show!"
"They should never have sent me with you."
"You need to relax." I say, leaning back in my chair, "We've got all week."
"I can't relax. This guy could be anywhere." she says.
"You know what would help you relax?"
"What?" she says.
"Some drugs."
"That's not funny."
"It's a little funny." I say.
Beckett goes back to flipping through pictures in her file, "You're no help."
"Alright. What do we know so far?" I say.
She shrugs, "Not much. We have his initials— JM. And that he was first linked to this ship in January."
"That's six months ago." I say. "No passenger would be on board that long."
"But even workers only work three months on three months off."
"So he passed the baton." I say.
"You think JM is more than one person?"
"Could be. Or he works stateside the other three."
"I just don't get how a man in the Caribbean leads all the way back to murders in New York."
"These guys follow the merchandise."
"Meaning what?" she says.
"Meaning we find the drugs. We find our guy."
"Nobody would believe that I'm a buyer."
"Maybe not you alone." I say. "But couples tend to do some pretty wild stuff on their honeymoon."
"We are not a couple." she says.
"Or I could go with the old honey trap," I say.
"Do I even want to know?"
I lean back in my deck chair, "seduce one woman after another until one finally talks. It would be tough but I'd be willing to do it for the protection of New Yorkers."
"Funny you should use the word protection."
She turns the page and her eyes dart across the paper, "Can I see the file?" I say. "I can't be of much help without a little more background information."
She splits the stack of paper in half and hands me the top portion.
I sift through the top few. It's a lot of old records and some photos. I don't want to look through all this stuff while I'm working on my tan. The file folder alone is blocking my abs from tanning evenly. I just need a quick summary.
"So this JM." I say, "When was the last time he was seen?"
"He wasn't seen exactly. They think he's linked to the murder of the college student in New York three weeks ago."
"How'd they do it?"
"Three gun shot wounds. It was real mess too. There was broken glass everywhere."
The moment she mentions the broken glass the pictures come back to me. The college kid on the ground with blood streaming down his t-shirt; the shards of glass covering every inch of pavement surrounding him.
"Ouch." I say.
She hands me a close-up image of the gun, "We traced the registration on the weapon back to a prisoner in NY. He talked in exchange for some freedom. The guy said these ships are a goldmine."
"How come?" I say.
"It's international waters for one. The islands belong to four different nations. So that doesn't help with jurisdiction. And then there are people from all over the world going to different islands everyday. It makes it easy for people to slip through the cracks."
"With their crack cocaine." I say with a smile.
She looks back at me completely unamused, "It's heroin actually."
"That's a more difficult play on words."
"New York thinks this JM orchestrates the whole thing. Getting drugs off the island and onto the ship."
"If he's a member of the crew we'll never find him as passengers." I say. "Crew has access to tiny corners of this ship we'll never see."
"He has to come out and work his day job at some point." she says.
"But the activity we need to see won't be on deck or at the buffet. The crew has their own cabins, their own club and bar. Not to mention all the maintenance areas. We can't get back there."
"He gets it off the ship somehow."
"Not just off the ship he gets it all the way to New York. Probably across the country. It's brilliant actually." I say.
"How do you figure?"
"Every seven days he gets a fresh batch of naive spring breakers from the states. Some he already knows, some he recruits from the hot tub or the bar. By the end of the week he's got a whole group of baby-faced distributors going to sell his product to little college towns across America. It's genius."
She wrinkles her eye brows, "It's not genius. It's criminal."
"Doesn't stop me from being a little jealous I didn't think of it myself. They don't even have to bypass airport security. Most these kids drive to the port."
"But they still get checked before the get on and off the ship." she says.
"Those guards barely looked at my ID. Not one commented on how my hair was three shades lighter in my Passport picture. And if they check so thoroughly how did I get this on board?"
I reach into my pool bag and pull out my new pocket knife. The sun reflects off it's smooth metal finish. As soon as I hold it up in the light Kate forces my hand back down.
"Castle what are you doing with that?" she says.
"Thought we might need a backup plan in case things went south. South as in poorly not South as in toward the islands."
She doesn't care for that joke either.
"You can't have that here." she says.
I use my towel to wipe the smudges she made off my new knife. "Got it past every single guard."
"Put it away!" she says.
I slip my little surprise back into my bag, "Guess we know who wears the pants in this relationship."
"Again…not a couple!"
A cruise ship worker complete with his own Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts takes a seat at the edge of Kate's chair.
"Excuse me." he says, "Y'all are such a cute couple."
"Thank you." I say. I can't help but notice that while I'm smiling Kate is rolling her eyes.
"Were doing a little version of newlywed competition on deck this afternoon and we're looking for some young couples. Can we count you in?" he says.
Kate gives a quick "No." But I say, "Yes!"
"Great! We love bickering. It brings in an audience. This one time a wife slapped her husband and it felt like the whole ship was watching."
"You might see that again." Kate says.
The worker practically squeals with delight, "That would be amazing."
"What do we win if we win?" I say.
"Five drink tickets."
"Each?" I ask.
"Total. The odd number creates more bickering."
"We'll do it." I say.